Viva is powered by Vocal.
Vocal is a platform that provides storytelling tools and engaged communities for writers, musicians, filmmakers, podcasters, and other creators to get discovered and fund their creativity.
How does Vocal work?
Creators share their stories on Vocal’s communities. In return, creators earn money when they are tipped and when their stories are read.
How do I join Vocal?
Vocal welcomes creators of all shapes and sizes. Join for free and start creating.
To learn more about Vocal, visit our resources.Show less
To be a woman seems to have a lot of preconceived notions. We are strong. We are weak. We can do anything. We are limited. We are only meant for the common man. We are meant for ourselves. 2018 showed the world that women were going to start standing up for themselves, but it also showed that women can be more emotional and difficult to understand.
The #MeToo movement is something I believe in. Not because of anything specifically happening to me in my past, but because there are women that are abused or assaulted and are out there scared to talk about it while their attackers are free and care-free and maybe even doing it again.
I, however, saw how sensitive everyone became just because of it. Christmas was a mess. Christmas songs were banned from radios and even Santa wasn't free from the political tornado. When does it end? Do I, as a woman, involve myself or stay out? Does that mean I'm a feminist or fighting my own gender? I asked myself this a lot. And then I had to ask, well what am I?
I am a mom. I am a daughter. I am a wife. I am a sister. I am a niece. I am a cousin. I have all these titles and yet I can't describe myself without at least one of those. Have things gotten so out of whack within me that I have forgotten? I could describe myself without using any of those back in high school. In fact, I could've and had ranted on and on about how cool I was. But let's face it. It's because back then, labels weren't as important. We wanted labels like taken or popular. No one really cared if you dressed like a guy, there was bound to be someone else like you who would slowly build a crush over the next three years, then finally get the nerve to talk to you around the end of junior year. But I digress.
What about everything else? Am I no longer outgoing? Am I now boring? God, I'd hate to think so. But no. The problem is that with everything happening outside of you, you forget that it's what is happening on the inside of you that matters. So what if I look like I got zapped by lightening when I first wake up in the morning? Why do I have the need to try and be perfect? So what if I gained weight after having two beautiful babies? I risked my life for them to be healthy, I think I earned that extra 50 pounds on my stomach and hips.
I look in the mirror and ask why didn't I put down that cake and chips when I should be happy with myself emotionally, first. We check Facebook, Twitter and Instagram for satisfaction that we're pretty or amazing. We look at the people who we want to look like and end up feeling even worse cause we look nothing like them. Why? I mean. If you're happy with you, why does it matter?
Why shame someone else that you aren't? So what if she's bigger than you wearing a skirt or shorts? Why did you feel the need to say something negative about her? If he is in love with a super skinny girl and is obsessed with her, yet she isn't interested, why do you feel the need to comment on how stuck up she is? Why do we feel the need to point out the worst or the most negative in a situation or person when there is no reason to? Is that why I don't know how to describe myself? Because I'm worried about how others will take it and come after me over it?
Maybe that's the first step. Doing it anyway and then making others see that if I call myself a queen, that I'm not saying I'm YOUR queen. I'm saying a queen to me. Maybe if I post a picture of myself in a skirt and a smaller top, it's because I loved the outfit and I think I looked like a model. Maybe I post it because the other days of the week, I feel worse than ever and like I will never look beautiful in anyone's eyes and it's a great picture to go back on to remind myself that I am beautiful and I'll be okay.
Do you ever think about how she feels when she reads the comments of how big she is or how she shouldn't dress that way because her skin shows? Can you imagine that feeling of something so small as a picture turning into something so negative or bashing as morally shaming her or assuming the worst of her? If you can imagine, then think to yourself, why would you do it? Why go out of your way to put her so far down? Is it because you feel low but you want to be better than someone, anyone?
What does it mean to be me?
Well it means that I don't shame or bash on someone else's happiness. If they look happy or post because they choose to, I nod or thumbs up and keep going. Gay marriage? Yay for you, happy lives. Adoption of opposite race? Yay for you and your new family. Girl posts pictures of her in various outfits while out and about, you go girl and I wish I left home more often. See? Not so hard right? Cause in reality, nothing they do or look like is going to affect my life or anything I plan on doing. Does it?
What does it mean to be me?
Maybe I'll join a gym. Maybe I'll eat less fast food. Or, maybe I'll eat an extra cinnamon roll.
What does it mean to be me?
Whatever the hell I choose it to be. And with no input from anyone else. Why?
Because that's what it means to be, well, me.